


Am I Blue?

by Sandyclaws68



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allurance Week 2017, Background Relationships, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Hinted Relationships, Mr and Mrs Blue Lion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 23:45:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12804990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandyclaws68/pseuds/Sandyclaws68
Summary: A collection of fic(let)s written for Allurance Week on Tumblr.  Chapter titles are the theme for the day.





	1. Alternate Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chef!Allura vs. Sommelier!Lance in a restaurant battle for the ages.

Allura stopped herself just in time from smashing the chef-grade, extremely expensive pan down on the burner. She didn't stop her tongue, though, and the ensuing flood of invective caught the attention of the dessert chef, who tried and failed to hide his grin.

“So, what did he do this time?” Hunk asked, folding his arms across his expansive chest.

With a glare she turned toward her friend. “He questioned the quality of my cranberry compote and opined that something a little heavier with orange zest would pair better with the wine he had chosen for the evening.” She huffed out a breath in what was an unmistakable snort. “I told him that the compote was obviously fine when he chose the wine, so it will damned well be fine when he serves it!”

A distinctly feminine chuckle came from behind the dividing wall a moment before Pidge, the trainee sous chef, appeared, tying on her apron as she walked into the kitchen proper. “Chef versus sommelier,” she commented with a shake of her head. “Never mind the anime; _that_ is the true Food War.”

“Pidge,” Hunk admonished her in a gentle tone, but as usual the youngest member of the kitchen staff was unrepentant.

“What? Can I help it that Allura's battles with Lance are the main source of entertainment around here?” Her eyes widened as another thought occurred to her. “Man, the only thing that could make this better would be if Lance turned out to be the annoying upstairs neighbor!”

“When you two are quite finished dissecting my life perhaps we could get to work?” Allura's question was nearly as acidic as the maligned cranberry compote. “We do have a service to get through this evening.”

Once everything settled down the evening went off without a hitch, wine, cranberry compote, and all. The two junior wine stewards avoided the kitchen like the plague, and even Lance kept himself scarce. In fact his only appearance was to consult with Hunk about what to serve with the main dessert of the evening and he and Allura studiously ignored each other, but at the end of the evening she went out of her way to speak to Lance, complimenting him on all of the service's wines.

It was difficult to tell if the flush the suffused his face was due to the compliment or the heat in the kitchen, and Pidge cornered Hunk in the walk-in refrigerator to pose exactly that question.

“Okay, you can go ahead and tell me I'm crazy, but I think there's something more going on between Allura and Lance than their never-ending arguments,” she began.

“You're crazy.

“What?!”

“You told me to go ahead and tell you that,” Hunk stated, voice bland and unemotional. “Plus there's the added benefit of it being true. There is no way – no way – that the pair of them feel anything but mutual animosity.” Pidge opened her mouth and he held up a hand. “No. NO. Even if I did believe they had some sort of feelings for each other I am not sticking my head in that hornet's nest. And you shouldn't either.”

“You're no fun.”

“Yeah, well, neither is getting fired.”

****~**~**~**~**~****

The next night was much calmer, probably because it was Lance's scheduled evening off. The most senior of the wine stewards, Keith, simply followed whatever instructions had been left for him without question. It made life in the kitchen more pleasurable, although Pidge felt obligated to try and liven things up.

“Man, I don't think I ever really noticed before, but things really are quiet around here when Lance is out,” she said, pitching her voice loud enough so Allura could hear it over the normal kitchen chaos. Hunk glared at her and made a slashing motion across his throat which Pidge completely ignored. “It might even be a little boring without him.” The sound of a pan clanging on a burner echoed. “What do you think, Allura?”

There was no response, but that didn't deter Pidge. She chattered on about all kinds of things the entire shift, injecting observations about Lance in periodically, even when they were complete non-sequiturs. By the time they reached the halfway point of what had become a stressful service Allura's face was brightly flushed from a combination of the stove's heat and her own anger. When Shiro, the maitre'd, put in an appearance he immediately reacted to the thick atmosphere of the kitchen.

He glanced around at the situation, making note of the way the prep cooks and food expediters kept their gazes averted. He turned to Hunk, one eyebrow rising in a question, but Hunk just shook his head, keeping his attention focused on his own job. “Pidge,” Shiro began, having zeroed in on her as the source of the tension, “I'm not really interested in what, exactly, has disrupted the flow of this evening, but I would appreciate it if things went back to normal.”

Pidge's cheeks flamed and she dropped her eyes to the counter in front of her. She didn't say anything; an apology would have been nothing but wasted words. What Shiro needed were actions to fix whatever the problem was, and Pidge's chagrin meant she had more than gotten the message. Shiro didn't say anything else, simply nodded and left the kitchen to tend to the rest of his domain.

“Allura. . .” Pidge breathed out as soon as the maitre'd went through the door, a hint of tears in her voice.

The chef shook her head. “Don't. There's no need.” She sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a soft sigh. “Let's just get on with our jobs, all right?”

Pidge simply nodded, although Hunk was able to hear her sigh of relief. He hated any sort of discord amongst their close knit working family, but the only way to work everything out once and for all was to talk to Lance. Alone, with no one else to create a distraction. The next afternoon was the day that the sommelier did his weekly wine inventory, which would be the ideal opportunity.

“Hey man, what's up?” Lance asked when Hunk came into the climate-controlled wine locker. It was unusual for anyone to interrupt him during the inventory, but Hunk was a special case, being his best friend among his co-workers. “I'm kind of glad you're here,” he went on, checking the tablet in his hand. “Did you want me to order some more of that champagne you used in those cupcakes last week? I know they were a big hit.”

“Yeah, sure, sounds good.” Hunk shifted on his feet, uncomfortable, but he decided to just dive in. “I appreciate you thinking of it, but that's not why I'm here,” he finally stated.

“Oooookay,” Lance replied, glancing his way and setting the tablet aside. “You look so serious so I guess I need to give this conversation my undivided attention.”

Hunk didn't respond to the implied humor. “It is pretty serious,” was all he said, giving Lance a stern look. “I need to know what you really think about Allura. How you really feel.” He pushed a hand though his hair and grunted. “And when I say 'I need' I mean the entire staff needs, because the two of you are driving all of us crazy.”

He watched in fascination as a tide of red flowed up Lance's neck and across his face, stopping only when the tips of his ears were a shade of pink found nowhere in nature. A choked off sound that might have been a word emerged from his throat before he clenched his jaw so tightly a muscle in his cheek started to twitch. “Lance?” Hunk asked, now genuinely worried.

Lance shook his head so rapidly that his hair lifted up in the breeze before unlocking his jaw. “I. . . It's just. . .” He sighed and leaned back against the nearest wine rack. “She's just so beautiful, and smart, and amazing, and wonderful, and it makes me stupid and all I can do or say are stupid things!” he blurted out in a rush. A tiny smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “I don't really hate her cranberry compote, you know. It's one of the best things I've ever tasted.”

****~**~**~**~**~****

By the end of the night Allura was beyond exhausted, physically, mentally, and emotionally. The physical aspect was nothing new to her; she drove herself hard to do the best job she could at all times. The mental exhaustion wasn't all that much of a surprise either, it went hand in hand with the determined focus that her job often demanded.

The emotional issue, though. . .

Hunk had cornered her in the prep room about an hour before the rest of the kitchen staff had arrived, claiming they needed to talk. It hadn't been easy to listen to what he had to say, especially since the subject of Lance was always an uncomfortable one. And his words had made her think, hard, about her own feelings.

 _He thinks you're beautiful, and amazing, and wonderful_ , Hunk had said. _So I think it's pretty safe to safe that he likes you._ There had been just enough emphasis on the word likes to get his point across and make her blush, but that hadn't been the end of it.

_And there are a few things that I've seen that lead me to believe you are not indifferent to him. So just, maybe, give it some thought, okay?_

And she had thought about it for the entire evening. Thought about it so much that she had burned three portions of duck breast that was part of the evening's main entree. Pidge had stared, aghast, before stepping in as support. But the real calamity had occurred when Lance came in to the kitchen to announce he was changing the dessert wine and Allura had dropped a bottle of balsamic vinegar, creating an enormous mess.

And giving her the final bit of clarity she had lacked.

Climbing the stairs to her second floor apartment seemed to take twice as long as normal, and she paused halfway up to just take a few deep breaths. It didn't have the calming affect that she had hoped, however, because as soon as her steps were no longer making noise she caught the sound of loud, obnoxious music coming from the third floor, and after the night she had had she was in no mood to tolerate her upstairs neighbor's annoying habits. With a growl deep in her throat she forced herself to stomp all the way up the stairs to briskly and loudly knock on the door of the apartment directly above hers.

The music shut off soon as she did and a muffled voice called out behind the door as Allura waited, rehearsing every blistering comment she wanted to make about said neighbor, his late night habits, and taste in music. The words died in her throat as soon as the door swung open.

“La. . . LANCE?!”

“ALLURA?!”

A nearly hysterical giggle bubbled out of her throat. “Pidge was right,” she managed to gasp out as she laughed. “It is better with you as the annoying upstairs neighbor.”


	2. Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the best part of a relationship is the things you can quietly share.

The star chart holograms in the control room were one of Lance's favorite things about the Castle of Lions. It was fascinating to look at the universe in miniature and track their path through countless galaxies and just as many battles. There were star systems that glowed green, showing planets they had fought for and freed from the Galra yoke, and ones in blue that they knew were ripe for rebellion. He liked looking at physical evidence that he was making a difference.

“I had a feeling I'd find you here.”

He grinned at hearing Allura's voice approach from behind him. “It is one of my favorite things to do at the end of a long day,” he said, getting to his feet and swiping a hand across the main panel, making the map disappear. “You know, re-living the glories of the past, plotting the glories of the future.”

“And here I thought you just enjoyed the romance of staring at the stars,” Allura replied with a gentle laugh as she moved to stand beside him.

Lance shook his head and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple. “If I wanted the 'romance', as you say, I'd be on the aft observation deck.” He reactivated the star chart and the hologram burst to life around them. “I really was thinking about where we should focus our next effort.” With a wave of his hand a purple colored system was highlighted.

Allura stared at the chart for a long moment. “The Pyrelian system?” she asked, glancing sidelong at him and moving away to take a closer look at the chart. “Why would you choose that? It's in the very heart of Sector Zebulon Sing, surrounded by three Galra garrisons.”

“Wait for it,” Lance cautioned with a grin. He tapped a few buttons on the main panel and the map changed, highlighting ship movements and routes through the sector. Allura's breath caught as the web grew and expanded. “Supply routes and troop movements,” he went on. “Roughly seventy per cent of the supplies destined to fight us and the coalition in this sector pass through the Pyrelian system. A series of surgical strikes there could cripple Galra operations for months, if not longer.” He shrugged when Allura cast him a proud glance. “It'd give all of us some breathing room, at the least.”

“You know, when the five of you first arrived on Arus so long ago I never would have expected that you, of all people, would prove to have such tactical intelligence,” Allura said, smiling slyly.

Lance laughed out loud. “I can believe that; you thought I was a buffoon.”

“In a way I thought you all were.”

“Yet look at us now,” Lance said as he reached for hand, tugging her closing and tipping up her chin with his other hand. “I know I pretty much fell for you at first sight, but it sure took a while for you to see my sterling qualities!”

“Well, it took time, and sharing Blue,” Allura chuckled before pressing her lips to his. “I never expected one of the Lions to be such a skilled matchmaker.” With a squeeze of his hands she took a step away from Lance and closer to the control panel. “I. . . I've been thinking about this for a while, and there's something I want to share with you. Something that I've kept to myself since awakening out of the cryopod.”

Lance raised an eyebrow in question but didn't otherwise respond. He simply stood where he was, waiting, as she worked the controls and the star map around them changed. It almost melted before shifting into stars he had never seen before. But there was something about the map; the emblem beside one of the systems was a familiar one. “Allura,” he whispered, awestruck. “Is this. . .”

She nodded. “It's the last star chart of the Altean system in the Castle's database. I saved it on a separate memory string from all of the others because I didn't want it to be overwritten by what that sector looks like now.” A single tear tracked down her cheek as she gazed at the display around them. “I don't ever want to forget.”

“You don't have to.” He came closer and took one of her hands, gently tugging her away from the control panel until they could sit on the floor with an unobstructed view of the hologram around them. “So,” he began, placing an arm around her shoulders, “these are the stars you grew up staring at and dreaming about, huh?”

“They are,” she agreed with a sad smile. “My father's lab in the castle on Altea had a program that allowed the star charts to automatically track the Lions, and I used to follow them all across the universe. I'd think about how proud my father would be the day I stepped into his shoes as the Red Paladin.” She chuckled. “That part didn't work out, obviously.”

Lance shook her gently. “Hey. He'd still be damned proud of you as the Blue Paladin, you know.” Then he jerked upright and got to his feet. “Let me see. . .” he mumbled, messing with the controls. “If this works. . .” And another star map bloomed in the room, superimposed over the Altean one. He made a few adjustments to the settings and the second map moved, bringing another highlighted system close to Altea.

Allura grinned when she recognized the new chart. “Earth, huh?” she asked when Lance rejoined her on the floor. “Right next to Altea?”

“Well, you did say you wanted some romance.”


	3. Insecurities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody's perfect; we all have issues we keep tucked away, out of view.

In what had become something of a ritual in recent months Allura ended her day with a visit to the Blue Lion's hanger before going to bed. A part of her was frightened at the prospect of their bond weakening, so she went out of her way to spend a few moments with Blue every day, even if was just a quick pat to one of her flanks in passing. The before bed visits were usually a bit more in-depth, since that was the only time they could really spend in each other's company. It was also Allura's favorite time of day, when she could let go of all the responsibilities of being the Princess of Altea and leader of the Resistance and just be herself.

That night brought with it a surprise, though, when she discovered someone had gotten to Blue's hanger before her.

“Lance?”

The figure sitting in the shadow of Blue's head started and rose lithely to his feet, looking abashed. He rubbed the back of his neck, unable to look directly at Allura as she approached. “Umm, I'll just leave now,” Lance mumbled

“NO!” Allura reached out and caught his arm. “You, uh, don't have to. I know you probably miss her.” She released her hold on Lance and took a step back. “I'll go and let you to have some time together.”

“You don't need to. We can. . . I don't know, share Blue? For a bit, anyway.”

Allura smiled and moved to sit down, leaning back against a forepaw. “That sounds like a wonderful idea,” she replied with a sigh, looking expectantly at Lance. It wasn't until he sat beside her that she truly relaxed, and they sat in quiet, mutual contemplation for a time before her curiosity got the better of her. “So why are you here tonight?” she asked, keeping her voice soft.

“I was. . .” Lance pushed a hand through his hair and groaned, tipping his head back and looking up at the underside of Blue's jaw. “I don't even know, if I'm honest. I just know that sometimes I don't feel like I belong with Red, even though she's accepted me as her Paladin. It's just not as comfortable, not like it always was with Blue.” He turned his head to gaze at Allura. “But now there's a part of Blue that I can't reach either, and I feel like -”

“Lance.” Allura laid a hand on his arm, stilling his words. “You can trust me on this; there is no part of Blue that you haven't, at some point, touched. I feel it, always, sort of humming away in the back of the bond she and I share.” She chuckled weakly. “Sometimes I think she's comparing you and me and I'm the one who's found wanting.”

“What?! No way could Blue think you're not perfect!” Lance exclaimed, eyes wide with shock. “Why would you think that?”

Allura's face was sad as she shook her head. “She knows that I wanted – desperately wanted – to pilot Red because of my father.”

Lance laughed then, trying to stifle it when she shot him a disgruntled look. “Allura, if Blue had it in her to be offended by your desire to follow in your father's footsteps she never would have opened herself to you in the first place. She heard everything you said to me about valuing a strong team over individual glory, and knew that you shared that vision.” He put an arm around her shoulders and tugged her close, laying his head on hers. “Blue saw all the things you and I have in common, and naturally turned to you.”

“I suppose you're right.” Allura shifted slightly against his side, seeking more of Lance's warmth in the chill of the hanger. It was a surprisingly pleasant feeling. “But what I don't understand is why you have such difficulty accepting the same thing with regard to you and Red.”

“I don't -”

“In your heart you have trouble acknowledging it,” she said, cutting his protest off. “If you recall I also told you that day that Red chose you because she saw much of what made my father special in you.” A flush started to climb her cheeks. “And for the record so do I.”

Lance laughed softly. “We're both kind of a mess, aren't we?

“Maybe. But it's nothing we can't overcome, especially if we remember to support each other.” She lifted her head from his shoulder so their gazes could meet and stuck out a hand. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Lance replied, and they firmly shook on it before Allura settled back against his side. They sat in silence for a time, sharing their warmth, and feeling the presence of Blue shifting between both their minds. Allura was on the verge of falling asleep, lulled by the combination of Lance's rhythmic breathing and the Lion's purr, when he finally spoke again. “Allura?”

She started, wincing as her neck cracked. “Yes?” she asked, voice husky from the almost-sleep.

“I. . . Well. . .” he stammered before giving his head a shake. “I was just thinking about how on Earth there's this. . . idea. . . well, more like a belief, that girls,” Allura coughed once in warning, making him chuckle. “okay, women, tend to fall in love with men that remind them of their fathers, and I was just wondering if that was true on Altea.”

Allura turned her head slightly, pressing her face against his shoulder to hide the smile making her lips twitch. “I don't know if I'd say it was a common idea, but it's certainly possible.” She slid her hand into his, carefully entwining their fingers. “Maybe even probable.”


	4. Ball/Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Dance with me, Lance._

The sound of the musicians warming up echoed down the corridors of the Castle, reaching the Paladin quarters and making Lance fuss with the collar of his new, dress uniform.

“Geez, stop messing with it,” Pidge groused behind him. “If you pull it out of shape it'll look even worse.” She moved around in front of him and checked the buttons on the jacket. “Why are you so nervous, anyway?”

“Just what I was about to ask,” Hunk put in from where he sat on the bed. “This is hardly our first formal event as Paladins.” He stood up and approached his friends. “Although it is the first one with Allura doing double-duty as Princess and Paladin.”

“Not to mention the first one since Lance actually confessed his luuuuuuuurve,” Pidge mocked, dodging the blow Lance aimed at her head. Hunk bent his head to keep his grin more or less hidden.

“Let's not tonight, children,” he scolded, stepping in between them. Then, just to ensure a level playing field, he said “I thought you'd be more excited about seeing Keith tonight than needling Lance, Pidge.” and watching the flush rise on her face.

And that rather effectively ended the conversation.

****~**~**~**~**~****

The training deck had been converted into a ballroom for the occasion, but even the immensity of that room was crowded with people. Aliens of all types and every imaginable language variant created some amazing people-watching opportunities, but Lance was more interested in watching on particular alien.

Allura was dressed in a gown that accented her figure without being too obviously clingy. The design almost mimicked the Paladin armor; white and pink predominated but two panels in black framed her waist. And pinned at her left breast was an insignia designating her as the Blue Paladin. They all wore one of those in a color that corresponded to their Lion, but only Lance's and Allura's differed from the colors of their clothes.

“You seem contemplative this evening, Red Paladin.”

Lance turned away from staring at the swirl of colors on the dance floor and looked up into Kolivan's impassive face. It had taken a tremendous amount of talking to convince the Galran that the Blade of Marmora needed to attend this event, mainly because Kolivan wasn't quite sure what 'dancing' was. Keith had been inclined to laugh at his commander, at least until Coran mentioned that he wasn't exactly a champion in the art either.

“I guess I am, a little,” he finally replied. He forcibly stopped himself from adjusting his uniform's collar. “I normally love music and dancing, but this sort of formal setting is not really my scene.”

Kolivan nodded sagely. “I imagine your desire to dance with the Princess, combined with not knowing how to ask her, doesn't help.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Why is everybody so focused on my relationship – or lack thereof – with Allura today? I've already gotten an earful from Hunk and Pidge, and now you?” He shook his head, chuckling softly. “Besides, I thought you might be a bit more concerned about Keith's social awkwardness,” he concluded, cocking his head to the dance floor where Keith and Pidge were doing their best to follow the line of the dance and failing miserably.

Something resembling a smile crossed Kolivan's face. “Keith is his own person in every way, and more than capable of dealing with his own mistakes. You looked more in need of a distraction.” The Galra looked back toward the crowded dance floor. “Plus this whole situation isn't really my 'scene', as you said. The Galra culture isn't exactly inclined toward celebrations.”

“Pity,” Lance commented with a grin. “It's never too late to learn, though. So get out there, get a drink, get something to eat, and talk to someone besides your fellow Blades!”

“I will if you take your own advice,” the Galra announced before disappearing into the crowd.

Lance hung his head and laughed, acknowledging that his advice to Kolivan had been a bit hypocritical. For pity's sake, even Hunk was out on the dance floor, doing his best to teach Shay a few moves. Keith and Pidge had more or less given up and were just standing together, faces red with a combination of mortification and laughter. He glanced around until he found Shiro, talking quietly with Matt. By the flush on both sets of cheeks he thought it wouldn't be much longer before they figured out their feelings and and joined in.

“It's going well, don't you think?

He just managed to not jump at the surprise of Allura's voice behind him. “Mm,” he replied, noncommittal. He also didn't turn around, not really wanting to meet her eyes. “I suppose everyone is enjoying themselves.”

"These kinds of occasions are just as important as any diplomatic conference,” Allura commented, moving to stand beside Lance and landing squarely in his peripheral vision. “My father always said that sharing simple pleasures helped strengthen bonds, forging an even better alliance.” She sighed then, and seemed to sway with the music, eyes drifting closed. Lance watched as one corner of her mouth quirked up as she moved, then her eyes opened and she looked directly into his. “Dance with me, Lance.”

“Uh. . .”

She moved into his space and slid a hand down his arm, taking his hand. “Dance with me, Lance,” she commanded in a whisper.

****~**~**~**~**~****

Hours later they were in the Blue Lion's hanger, moving to a tune that only the two of them could hear, content to be, at least for a time, oblivious to all other concerns. And if they held each other just a little tighter, or pressed their bodies just a little closer, that was nobody's concern but theirs.


	5. Earth vs. Altea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the silliest things can remind you of what you miss the most.

“Okay, here's another one. Why does 'just a minute' always take considerably longer than a minute?”

Lance laughed and tossed a piece of what passed as popcorn – the result of Hunk's latest kitchen experiment – into the air before catching it in his mouth. “Honestly I'm not sure,” he replied, voice a little garbled with the food, “but my mom always said it was polite to give some sort of time estimate, even if it was highly inaccurate.”

“I can understand that,” Allura said with a nod, grabbing a handful of the snack from the bowl between them. “And I can always get behind the idea of politeness,” she concluded with a smile. “Now it's your turn.”

“Hmmmm. . . Right, here's one I've wanted to ask for ages. Who, exactly, was King Groggery the Infirm?”

“Oh dear.” A tinge of pink climbed Allura's cheeks as she looked away. “Well, the simplest answer is he was my great-grandfather.”

Lance crunched on some more popcorn. “There has to be more to it than that,” he finally commented when no further information was forthcoming.

Allura's blush intensified and she breathed out in a huff. “Fine. He was my great-grandfather and they called him infirm because he was as crazy as a rabid klanmüirl. According to a particularly salacious legend he once greeted the head of a Plaxian scientific delegation by sticking his hand down her shirt.” She clapped her hands over her face in embarrassment but couldn't cover up how red the tips of her ears grew.

Every attempt to stifle his laughter failed, and eventually Lance couldn't help the sound that burst out of him. It went on for long minutes, accompanied by a rhythmic slapping of his hand on the floor. Allura looked indignant at first, but his chuckles proved to be contagious and she soon joined in.

“Oh. My. God,” Lance finally managed to breath out, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “I think the funniest part of the whole thing is knowing that Coran admires the man!”

Allura's eyes widened in shock for a moment before she started giggling again. “Stop!” she cried, waving a hand in his general direction as she struggled to get her laughter under control. Lance just grinned as he watched her, waiting patiently for the paroxysm to end. When it did she took a deep breath. “So now it's my turn again, right?” When he nodded she went on. “How did you learn to milk a cow?”

Now it was Lance's turn to flush a bright red that reached all the way to his ears. “It was, uh, not one of my finer moments. I was fifteen and just really starting to wonder about, well, sex, and I asked my oldest brother what it was like to -” He coughed and turned an even brighter red. “ - what it was like to touch a girl's breast, and he told me I should learn how to milk a cow if I really wanted to know.”

“And did it help at all?” Allura asked, not sure what cows and breasts had in common, but she had long accepted that the ways of Earthlings were sometimes beyond her understanding.

“I haven't really had a chance to test it, to be honest. But I found the repetitive motion of milking to be kind of relaxing, so I just kind of kept up with it.” He grabbed some more popcorn. “The summer before I started at the Garrison I worked at a small dairy farm, one that didn't use milking machines. It was all done by hand, so I got pretty good at it.” He grinned and tapped the rim of the empty glass next to him, the remains of a milkshake clinging to its sides. “I certainly never expected it to be a skill I'd need in space. And now I want to know what is a globinheffer and what makes it sprightly?”

Allura's brows drew together and her mouth pulled downward in a frown. “I swear, if I knew you guys were listening to Coran so closely I would have taken steps to control what he was saying before you all got such wrong ideas about Altea!” She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “A globinheffer is a mythical animal, with the head and face of a man and the body of a lion. And the reason globinheffers are so sprightly is because they aren't real.” She shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth and crunched on it, almost savagely, still scowling. Lance almost felt sorry for Coran.

But then something else she said hit him. “The head of a man and the body of a lion?” he yelped. “A globinheffer is a sphinx? That is so awesome?” He leaned forward, closer to Allura. “Does it eat people if they can't answer its riddle? What's its mythical purpose? Wow, this really is cool, that two different planets have similar mythical animals. I mean, I know it's fairly common on Earth for different cultures to have -”

Allura's finger on his lips stopped the flow of words. “You're babbling,” she whispered with a smile before putting a piece of popcorn in his mouth. “And I want to change the game a little bit.” She inhaled. “If you had been prepared for this and could have chosen one item to bring to space with you to remind you of home what would it have been?”

Lance's face fell a little before taking on a far away look as he gave the question some thought. “God, there's so many things I could choose, but if you're forcing me to pick just one -” He glared at Allura a little, grinning when she stuck her tongue out in response. “ - it'd probably have to be the perfect sand dollar that I found on the beach near home when I was ten.”

“What is a sand dollar?” Allura asked, looking interested.

“Well, it's related to sea urchins and tends to live in shallow, ocean waters,” Lance explained, using his hands to measure to approximate size. “They're round with a rigid skeleton that has five radiating arms, or spines. When they die the skeletons wash closer to shore and get bleached in the sun, turning white. They're kind of delicate, though, so finding a complete and intact sand dollar is usually a feat. My grandfather said it was good luck, and I kept it ever since.”

“That sounds like a good reminder of your home,” Allura commented. “And not just Earth, but those beaches you talk about a lot.” Her expression grew a bit wistful. “I'd love to see your beaches sometime.”

“I'll take you,” Lance promised. “Once all of this is over I'll make sure to show you all of the best spots.” He grinned. “And now you have to answer the same question: what do you wish you had to remind you of your home?”

Allura looked away but not before Lance saw the shine of tears in her eyes. “Shit! I don't mean it; you don't have to answer! God, I'm an idiot.” He buried his face in his palms. “I'm so sorry, Allura. I didn't really think.” The last two sentences were muffled by his hands.

“It's all right,” she replied, pulling one hand away from his face. “I know you didn't mean anything by the question; you just caught me unawares. But I do want to answer, because I think it's important that I never forget.” She sighed deeply. “I had a necklace that once belonged to my mother that I used to always have with me. But when we launched the Castle in what would be our final journey away from Altea I was in a hurry and forgot to bring the necklace with me.” She looked up toward the ceiling. “It seems like such a small thing, but it might be my greatest regret.”

“I didn't mean to make you upset,” Lance commented, eyes downcast. “I really am sorry.”

“And I told you it's all right,” Allura responded, cupping his chin and raising his face so their eyes could meet. “Yes, I'm a little upset thinking about it but I would be no matter the circumstances. It's not your fault.” She leaned forward and touched her forehead to his. “I suggest we pick a new game, something a little less. . . emotional”

Lance smiled and rubbed their noses together. “You up for a round of Killbot Phantasm?”


	6. Cotton Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kitchen experiment goes a little sideways.

“And what, exactly, are we supposed to be doing?”

Lance shot Allura a look as they slipped into the Castle's kitchen. “You're always saying you're curious about life on Earth, right? Well, hopefully I can give you a little taste of one of my favorite things.” He brandished the sack of a sugar-like substance they had first encountered on the planet Xylox; the only place in the sector where it was manufactured, as far as they could determine. The Xylothians had been more than happy to provide a few samples in exchange for Voltron's help in preventing the Galra from gaining a foothold on their planet.

“But why do we need to be in the kitchen for this?” Allura asked, stumbling a little in the dark.

Lance caught her arm and steadied her, slapping a hand on the wall to activate the room's lights. “Well, in order to give you a taste of this I need to prepare it, which naturally leads to the kitchen,” he replied with a laugh, setting the sack down on the closest counter. “Hunk gave me a few pointers on what I would need, so this should all work out perfectly.”

Hunk had, in truth, told him that he was crazy to try and attempt what he contemplated. “You're not going to be able to calibrate just the right balance between heat and air speed,” the Yellow Paladin had insisted. “The processing systems in the kitchen don't work that way, so you're either going to end up with enough heat to melt everything or a breeze stiff enough to blow you out the door.”

In fairly typical Lance fashion he had blown off his friend's concerns. “Just tell me what buttons to push,” he had requested. And Hunk had obliged, albeit with a dubious frown on his face.

“Well, if you're sure,” Allura agreed, smiling. She hopped up to sit on the nearest counter. “I'm looking forward to another Earth delicacy; if it's anywhere near as good as those milkshakes I'm sure I'll love it.”

Lance felt his face heat as it always did when Allura smiled at him, and moved to the other side of the kitchen, intending to use the processor that Hunk had recommended. “The third one on the right from the door is your best chance of getting this to work,” he had said before giving Lance a crash course in how to adjust the heat and air convection settings. His final statement of “Good luck.” had been a little disconcerting, but Lance was eternally optimistic.

He quickly poured the the Xylothian sugar into the appropriate slot, then carefully adjusted the controls to the setting that Hunk had recommended. He said a quick prayer that everything would work the way he wanted and hit the button to start the processor. The machine whirred contentedly for a few minutes, but then the gauges all simultaneously jumped into the red zone. The processor made a sound that was disturbingly like a choked-off human moan, and Lance took a few steps back, moving closer to where Allura sat.

“What's wrong with it?” she asked a split second before the slot where food usually appeared erupted in a mass of sticky blue and pink string.

“ARGH!” Lance threw up his arms to shield his face and stepped in front of Allura, hoping to keep the worst of the mess from hitting her. He felt her hands against his shoulder blades as she ducked down, a strangled sound of distress escaping her throat.

It didn't take long to realize that they needed to do something about the processor or end up drowning in the goop. The didn't bother with an exchange of words to come up with a plan; Lance was able to glance behind him and caught Allura's eye, grinning when she nodded once to indicate she was ready. He dropped down to pull some plates out of the cabinet while she slid off the counter top and came alongside him, grabbing one of the plates and using it to deflect a particularly large shot of blue gunk that was headed for Lance's head.

“Hold it off as best as you can till I get the damned machine shut down!” he shouted over the noise. Even as he spoke Allura blocked another blob, sending it toward the ceiling. Lance took off across the room, leaping to avoid a pink puddle on the floor and using the plate in his hand as a shield. He winced at every _squelch_ that indicated a successful deflection; this was going to be hell to clean up.

The plates may have been adequate protection for their faces and eyes, but within seconds every other part of their bodies was covered. They were close to the wall by that time, and Allura dove the last few feet, tucking and rolling to fetch up to one side of the processor, with her back to the wall. Lance followed suit till he was right beside her and with no hesitation the princess took the plate out of his hands and used both of them to cover the slot as best she could.

“Hurry!” Allura cried. “I can't hold this forever!”

Lance ducked under the processor and opened the operational panel at it's base, yanking wires at random until the machine finally gave a wheezing cough. The flow of blue and pink goop was reduced to a trickle, then to a slow but steady drip, before finally coming to a stop.

The two of them cautiously came away from the wall, the plates sliding out of Allura's hands, landing with a muffled _squish_ in the mess. Their gazes met, eyes wide with shock, and even as they stared, each at the other, a glob of blue dropped from the ceiling, passing between them.

That was the final straw; they both started laughing, almost hysterically. Allura leaned against the counter with one hand while she pressed the other against her side, fighting off a stitch. Lance had to fight the urge to hit the floor rolling, since that would only have made the mess worse.

It took a few minutes but when they started to calm down Allura reached out and tugged at a swirled pink and blue spot high on Lance's cheekbone, making a disgusted face at the stickiness. “What is it?” she finally asked, breathless.

“It was supposed to be cotton candy,” Lance replied, tugging at the congealing mess in his hair. “It's a fairground treat on Earth; hot air spins sugar into fluffy cones that melt in your mouth and taste so good.” He sighed. “Guess Hunk was right when he said this wouldn't quite work out.”

Allura touched the tip of her tongue to the piece she was holding. “I wouldn't call it fluffy,” she began with a contemplative look, “but it's definitely sweet.” A flush rose on her cheeks. “I don't know if that's the Xylothian sugar or what it was stuck to, though.”

Lance's blush was probably hot enough to melt sugar, but it was well worth it considering the smile Allura cast his way.


	7. Fairy Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura isn't much of a fan.

“. . . and the queen said she wished that she would have a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as ebony wood. Not long after she had a daughter who was all three, and they called her Snow-white.”

“How could she be all three of those things?” Allura asked. “It sounds ridiculous to me.”

Lance sighed. “She wasn't all three combined; it was three distinct colors in three distinct features.” And he recited from memory “Skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood, and hair as black as ebony.” He glanced down at the top of Allura's head where it rested against his collarbone. “Can I go on with the story now?”

“Fine.”

“The queen died giving birth to her daughter, and a year later the king took another wife, an arrogant, overly proud woman much concerned with ensuring that no one ever surpassed her beauty. She possessed a magic mirror, and each day looked at herself and spoke thus:

_Mirror, mirror, on the wall_

_Who is the fairest one of all?_ ”

“Magic mirrors? Lance -” Allura moved as if she was going to sit up, and Lance used his hands on her shoulders to keep her laying against him, her back to his chest.

“And each time the mirror replied that the queen was the fairest, until. . .” He paused, waiting for Allura to huff with impatience. “Until Snow-white grew up.”

“One day when the queen had made her usual request the mirror's response was different.

_You, my queen, are fair, 'tis true_

_But Snow-white is much fairer than you._ ”

“And the queen, enraged by this, summoned a huntsman to do her bidding and ordered the man to take Snow-white to the forest and kill her, bringing back the girl's lungs and liver as proof the deed had been done.”

“Okay, now that's just stupid,” Allura protested. “Why not just ignore the mirror and get on with her life? She's a queen, for quiznack's sake! She should behave like one.”

“Are you going to let me tell the story or would you rather take over with some crazy Altean fairy tale about globinheffers in Wozblay?” Lance asked, unable to keep the peevishness out of his voice.

She sighed and tilted her head back to look up at him. “I just want the story to make sense! I mean if you're going to have someone killed shouldn't there be a better reason than 'A magic mirror told me to.'?” She shook her head. “I know you've told me more of these stories, but this one is the worst so far. And I suppose it'll end like all of the others, with the poor, oppressed, put-upon princess being saved by the handsome, heroic prince?” She sighed in disgust. “As if a princess is a totally useless individual who can't save herself.”

“All right, that's not really a fair assessment -”

“I mean, I can give Cinderella a bit of credit,” Allura went on as if Lance hadn't spoken. “At least she did something active in presenting herself to the prince against her stepmother's wishes, but what about Sleeping Beauty? She slept through the whole thing!”

“That was kind of the point.”

“And don't even get me started on Red Riding Hood!” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “How unobservant and clueless can one person be? Who mistakes a wolf for her grandmother?”

“I'm not telling you any more fairy tales.” The pout was clearly audible in Lance's voice.


End file.
